Hold Your Colour
by Red Stockings
Summary: Charles knows that their friendship is evolving, but it might be taking him somewhere he does not want, or cannot be.  "I am the outward sign of your magnificence Charles. My power is a reflection of yours. We are the same." E/C slash fic in film canon.
1. Hold Your Colour

**Author's Note:** This is my first Xmen fanfic. It is slash, so take fair warning now. Pairing is Erik/magneto slash Charles/Professor X.

**Summary: **Set during the training sequence. Charles knows that their friendship is evolving, but it might be taking him somewhere he does not want, or cannot be. Can he resist when he does not want to? This is intended to be an oneshot. Hope you enjoy.

**Hold your colour**

The air between them is always electric. From the moment he met him, Charles had felt it. He does not need to use his powers to feel it touching his skin. He can see what is in Erik's mind just by glancing at his face. The other man is so full of emotions that they radiate from his eyes. Charles has never before been aware of anyone else so acutely; even Raven often seemed closed off from him, with a perfect poker face.

Being with Erik is all encompassing. His actions and words draw Charles towards him, and always seem to be awaiting his opinion on them. Sometimes in these moments Charles does not even realise that they are no longer alone in the room. Everything else seems to just fade away, and all there is, is Erik. He has never been this distracted before.

An alarming notion occurs to him without any warning. Whilst studying Erik's face one unspecial moment, he thinks it would be very easy to be overwhelmed by Erik, his passion for his own cause understandable and inspiring. His personality domineering and confident. He has known true pain, and yet his passion and drive are no weaker for it.

But this revelation came with another. It is not just Erik's powers that are magnetic, his whole person is too. This is why Charles must be the stronger of the two, to keep the others on the right path. It would be so easy just to give in, and follow Erik's convictions. But Charles is a man of principal too, just as strong, even if he unlike Erik, does not wear them on his sleeve.

"Everything that we are is superior to them," Erik was saying.

Charles realised Erik must have been speaking for some time, but it was only the last few words that brought him back into the moment. He was sitting in the kitchen of the Xavier mansion, it was late and their younger companions were busy elsewhere in the house. It was these impromptu meetings between them that often revealed the most about them. When their guards were down, and the pressure of the outside world let them be. Alone, they did not need to keep up their charades, but even still, they struggled to let one another behind them.

Charles had been content to be sat alone, but Erik had interrupted his solitude with the likely excuse of making a sandwich. He watched the knife drawer open on it's own, running along its metal sliders, and a butter knife and its sharper friend rise up into the air. He wondered whether the fridge door might now open, but Erik was now walking towards it, the knives still hovering.

"What?" Charles asked, his voice sharper than he intended it to be.

Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles' ineloquent reply to his comment. It was clear he might as well have been speaking to the wall for all Charles had been listening to him. Then again, his friend had seemed less composed since he'd been using the cerebro, perhaps there was a lot more on his mind now, in more ways than one. It had certainly taken a lot out of him at the time.

"Spying on someone?" Erik asked over his shoulder as he took the food he wanted from the fridge. "I won't judge you. You know I'd be doing the same."

Charles considered his friend's grin, before the snap of the fridge door made him look away.

"I just hear them when I am not concentrating," Charles replied. He rubbed his temples, whilst leaning his elbows on the kitchen table. Erik watched the small circles he was making with his fingers and wondered whether it was giving him any comfort.

"I thought it worked the other way around?"

For all the bragging that went on in this house, Charles was never one to showcase what he could and couldn't do with his mind. His power was what it was. But even then, Erik often thought he was holding something back from them all. Maybe the cerebro had indeed damaged him. Or maybe his powers were evolving too, like they all were?

"Usually you would be correct. But with all this training … and cerebro, I've been using my powers a lot. Occasionally I don't even know what are my own thoughts, or what are theirs. I've been so close to you all recently. It's hard work keeping you all out," Charles explained.

"And there I was, thinking I was the only one you've been 'close' to."

And without warning, the electricity was back. The very same feeling that had been haunting Charles for days. The one he had been trying to ignore, hide from, and to understand. It made the hairs on his bare arms stand on end. He looked up and his eyes flickered from Erik's expressive eyes the still hovering knives. The knives appeared to be shivering. Thrumming with the same powerful vibe in the room. The one that came from Erik. The one only Charles could feel.

"I've felt you in here many times," Erik continued, touching the side of his face. Ignoring the uncomfortable look on his friend's face. "What are you looking for?"

"My apologies Erik," Charles said. He felt surprised at this disclosure. Usually people noticed nothing when he read their mind. Was this something new, or was Erik listening for him? As in tune with him, as he was in return?

This answer did not seem to be the one Erik had wanted, as he turned, and looked at the knives. They glided towards him smoothly and began buttering his bread, then carefully slicing some cheese.

"You haven't answered the question," he said. His back still turned.

"Which question? There was more than one." Charles' mouth felt dry. He hadn't felt this nervous for a long time. His heart was beating wildly and his palms were sweating. He tried to calm himself, but as he diverted his concentration, he began to hear other voices in his head.

"I bet I could carry someone, when I fly. Maybe I could just swoop down and pick the professor up? Except that would probably be frightening. Maybe I could get Magneto instead?"

"Stupid plastic dummies, they deserve to get melted. I wouldn't miss if it were actually a person there. But no, it has to be plastic dummies. I'll show them."

"I wonder if I should…"

"Charles wouldn't like it if I…"

"I could build a better one…"

"I suppose I could get a dog…"

"If only…"

"CHARLES!"

His eyes flew open, and rather than being where he had expected Erik to be, he was now in front of him, leaning down towards his face. Charles leant back instinctively. He felt adrenaline suddenly kick into his veins. He wanted to run.

"Are you trying to keep me out too?" Erik asked. There was a knowing look on his face, which told Charles that he had been found out.

Erik knew about the electricity too. He knew everything. He could see the flush of colour over Charles' cheeks. Could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Erik was leaning closer again. Was he playing a cruel joke with him? Teasing him? Charles stood abruptly, but Erik caught him. His strong grasp holding his arms, and keeping him in place.

Charles stared into his eyes. There was nowhere for him to hide now. Erik knew, and he didn't know how. Had he been so obvious?

"Tell me why you are keeping me out?" Erik demanded. Charles felt shaken, and didn't know whether it was from the words or Erik's violent grip.

"I'm too afraid to know what you think of me," he replied at last. Words tumbling off his tongue. This feeling of being out of control was not one he had experience with. His mind, which was usually so razor sharp, had failed him. Gone mute. There was nothing coming to save him.

The exasperated noise Erik made following his admission did nothing to calm him. The unexpected and aggressive way in which he grabbed the side of Charles face made them crash into the table. Charles' hands reached back to brace himself, leaving himself defenceless. Whilst Erik held him firmly, his fingers digging into his hair, his thumb pressing harshly into his jaw.

"Do it now," Erik demanded.

"Do what?"

"Go into my mind."

"No," Charles replied. Unsure why he refused. Giving Erik what he wanted was a sure fire way of making this end. But to what end? The shock of being so roughly manhandled had made him lose control of his body, let alone being expected to use his mind.

He was shaking, but Erik gave him no mercy. His piercing eyes ignored the effect he was having on his friend. And when Charles hand came up to try and free himself, Erik easily shrugged it away. Tipping Charles further off balance.

"Then you give me no choice," Erik said.

Charles could feel the electricity shoot straight through him. Erik pushed him further back until the angle was almost painful, before Erik's lips closed over his in the most possessive and angry kiss Charles had ever experienced. He felt pain, from the strong hands wrapped around his face, the fingers digging into him. His back screamed at him, from being tilting in such an unnatural and submissive way. And his lips stung, from Erik's unrelenting ferociousness.

When he was released he couldn't breathe, and was thankful for being pushed into the table, as he couldn't stand.

"Your fault it had to be this way," Erik said, his voice broken by the fast pace of his breathing. "So now you know."

Charles didn't reply. His world had gone blank. Gone were the other voices. All there was Erik.

"And I don't need to read your mind, to know you feel exactly the same way."

The same way? Charles knew exactly what Erik wanted from him. The kiss told him more than probably even Erik knew. Erik wanted to dominate him, bend him to his will like he did everything and everyone else. It was what he had been afraid of all along. It would be all too easy to let himself be enveloped by Erik, and forget himself. He was frightened by the strength of wanting to give up. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to resist.

"Tomorrow you train with me. And you'll be in here," he said, touching his head once more. Charles knew that this was not a request. To refuse now when Erik was looking at him in such a way would leave them both out of control. "I want to be the best. Better than all of them. I am the outward sign of your magnificence Charles. My power is a reflection of yours. We are the same."

Erik looked him over one last time, before taking his sandwich like it was some kind of prize and leaving Charles to the mess of his own thoughts.

The same. The words sat heavy with Charles, and he looked around at the disorder in the room. The content of the table was on the floor, the content of the fridge strewn all over the worktop. Were they the same? They could be. So easily could be. All Charles knew was right now, he couldn't fight this. Today Erik was stronger. He'd give in. All he hoped was, that he would prove the stronger when the time really mattered. And he knew that time was coming.


	2. The Next Fall

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the first chapter. Without you there wouldn't have been a chapter two. Apparently I like writing these two both as masters of manipulation. As before, this is slash. Erik/Charles. I'm not sure I'll continue (again), but maybe if I find more inspiration. Hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think.

**The Next Fall**

Charles stood at the top of the satellite dish. He looked directly out at the fields around them, the land that he owned stretching out for miles around them. No one else in sight. No other noise, save for the odd bird that took to calling for its mate. He shifted his stance, feeling Erik's eyes on him, burning a hole in the side of him. Every little move he made, scrutinized.

He felt the unfamiliar heaviness of his feet, caused by the steel capped workmen's boots he'd found in the ground's workshop. As he moved his hands up to touch the railing before him, the watch on his wrist caught the last remaining rays of the sun. The nine other watches he had attached to his wrist and forearms remained hidden under his dark coat. The atmosphere between them was heavy, and his companion was silent.

Last night's events remained unspoken between them. There was nothing to say. Erik's kiss had changed their path forever, and Charles was not apposed to being redirected. Where is led, seemed uncertain. But still, the silence was not a comfortable one. Broken only by the crunch of their boots over the pale gravel, then the trek across the grass, before the final climb to the top of the oversized dish.

Charles leant on the rail and looked down. It would be a long fall, but the wind blowing in his face and wrestling with his hair seemed to be pushing him away from the edge. Erik continued to watch him; he was feeling tense, as if he expected Charles to erupt at him at any moment. He'd walked them a long way away from the others, there would be no chance of an interruption here.

Charles' eyes were bright and alert, and the breaths he took deep and measured. Erik gripped the rail also, but unlike Charles, his knuckles were white. Last night, he had been the one in control. He'd had Charles on the back foot. He'd won the upper hand by rushing in and surprising them both. But now, the game had changed. Charles was making him nervous, just by standing near him. Making him tense with the silence. He didn't know the rules of this long, and slow paced game.

"If a man was wearing metal Erik, could you lift him? Off the ground?"

Erik raised an eyebrow. It seemed a stupid question; Charles didn't look as if he weighed much more than his sister Raven. Besides, he'd moved heavier things before.

"I'm pretty sure I could pick you up Charles," Erik replied, a smirk now on his face.

Charles smiled, and Erik saw the faintest hint of a blush across his pale cheeks. Then again, it could just be from battling the increasing gale. Storm clouds were rolling in, and Erik wouldn't be at all surprised if it started raining.

"I'm sure you could," Charles replied, turning to rest his back on the railing instead. The nonchalant pose told Erik that they were both speaking in double meanings now. "But that isn't what I mean."

Erik decided it was probably best to remain silent. The look in his eyes saying all that needed to be said right now.

"No, what I meant was … could you float me over there?" Charles asked, pointing to the end of the observatory walk. "Even in this, slight breeze?"

Erik laughed. Slight breeze? He was about ready to be knocked over by the approaching storm. But he followed the direction Charles pointed in, and noted that it was but ten feet away. Hardly a challenge usually, but Charles was asking for something new. This wasn't a case of just pushing something out of the way, or picking something up with the intent to cause damage, not caring what it hit on its way. He would have to purposely pick Charles up and move him carefully.

"Yes, in theory, yes I could move you over there."

"You already know I'm wearing more metal than usual Erik. I could feel you tugging on my arms and legs as we walked over here."

Erik tried to bite down the grin that came with that recent memory. The vision of Charles' jerky walking across the grass would stay with him forever. He hadn't needed to pull so hard, but he'd been trying to see how far he could push it before Charles finally snapped.

Charles said nothing. He pushed himself away from the railing and stood expectantly. Taking a steadying breath, Erik felt for the metal on Charles' person, and shakily lifted him from the ground. Keeping him steady in the gale seemed an almost impossible task; especially now he was a few inches off the ground.

"This is good Erik, very good," Charles said approvingly. "Now move me."

Rather than move Charles towards the intended destination, Erik brought him closer instead. The frown that appeared on Charles' face made him laugh.

"What are you doing?"

"You asked me to move you," Erik replied. They were but an inch away from each other now, and Charles found his hands moving, out and away from his body, as if Erik sought to make him a little more vulnerable. Erik's own hands found their way under Charles' coat and caught in his belt loops. "Do you feel moved now?"

Charles looked at him with the same direct gaze he always looked at him with. There was no shame in his face. He had never had to hide. For all his quaint gentleman like behaviour and perfect manners, Charles Xavier was not shy.

"I could keep you like this all day," Erik continued.

"And what would that achieve?" Charles asked.

"Does it need to achieve something?"

Then Erik felt it, the first cold speck of rain. He looked up at the sky, the sun, which had begun the day weakly, was now completely covered. As much as he wanted to keep teasing Charles, he didn't relish the idea of being stuck on top of a great big metal beacon during a thunderstorm.

"You would not stand before me like this unless I made you Charles," Erik continued when Charles did not answer. "You would not have kissed me last night unless I had made you either. Is it always going to be me who has to pull you into vice? Why wont you give me something?"

Charles opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he found himself flying backwards. All he could feel from Erik was anger. But when he reached his stop, and Erik let go of him roughly, he felt guilt from Erik, as he stumbled into the rail. Temporality shocked, Charles stared down at the bottom of the dish. If he fell from here at least he'd miss the big spiked mast in the middle.

Charles took a few steps to his left. Here the railing stopped, and there was nothing to hold an unsteady walker up. He saw that Erik was still looking at him, with the same mix of lust and fury in his eyes. Turning round, he let his back face the drop.

"What are you doing?" Erik demanded. He took a step closer, but Charles stopped him.

His legs were frozen, and he could hear Charles voice in his head.

_You cannot walk towards me Erik_. Charles' fingertip was touching his temple, the action Erik recognised when Charles concentrated intently. He struggled against the suggestion in his head, and his heart began to shudder in his chest. He knew what Charles was going to do.

He'd known from the second they'd left the house, the walk over here, the climb, the teasing, the test, he could feel it. How had he allowed this to happen? He should never have goaded Charles into playing the same rough games he did. He wanted him safe. Wanted him back at the mansion teaching the others. Drinking those stupid cups of tea, reading his poetry books, doodling micro-organisms or whatever the hell they were. He wanted him back to ignoring that there was anything but just an uneasy friendship between them both. Anything. Just as long as he was safe, and far away from that sheer drop.

"I trust you Erik," Charles said as he closed his eyes. "I really do. More than anyone."

He kept the finger to his temple, but his other arm flew out like a wing, and then he leant back. Erik felt his heart strain against his chest, as he watched Charles fall. Not a shiver of panic in his friend's face, just his faith in him, so clear to see. What had Erik done to deserve trust so strong? What the hell did Charles see in _him_? What made Charles think Erik was such a good man? A man to be trusted? A man you trusted with your life? Charles was wrong. He had to be wrong. … But he was still falling.

"No!" Erik shouted, he ran forward before he was aware Charles had released him, and felt the world around him move as if in slow motion. His hands shot out before him, and his power flew through his body like the lightning striking through the sky.

Charles felt his fall. The sensation primal, and ripping through his body. But he would not feel any fear, at least not his own. His mind was linked with Erik, so far entwined that he could not tell if the wind he was hearing was rushing past his own ears or his friend's.

He saw himself in Erik's mind. He felt Erik's shock. Erik's fear. Erik's doubt and his anger. He saw himself, his face a mask of calm, his pale hand outstretched, wind tearing at his hair and his clothes. He felt Erik's power, begin from somewhere deep inside of his mind, somewhere unexpected and hidden. It travelled throughout him, in every part of his being, and Charles felt it tingling at the end of his own fingers.

Charles hit the curve of the satellite dish hard. Harder than he had expected and jarringly enough to knock the breath from him. For a second he panicked, and let go of Erik's mind. He had forgotten how to breathe. His vision, when he opened his eyes, was black. Then he could hear Erik shouting, and a gasp of air hit his lungs. His vision cleared in time to see Erik land clumsily above him, before sliding the rest of the way down to his side.

"Charles!" Erik shouted, leaning over him. "If you're dead I'm not taking the blame for this!"

Charles smiled, but in his mouth he tasted blood. It must have escaped onto his lips, because Erik was trying to wipe it away. His touch rough and almost desperate, as if the blood was some kind of symbol of their failure. When wiped away, they could ignore it. The rain was starting to sting Charles' face, but the stupid grin he was wearing wouldn't go away. Adrenaline was still pumping through him, making him feel outside of himself and truly alive. He looked up at Erik with his eyes full of pride.

"Are you mad? What kind of lesson was that supposed to be?" Erik demanded.

"Was your heart in your mouth Erik?"

"You know it was."

"Then we're even."

"You could have warned me," Erik shouted.

"You would not have agreed. You need me to push you Erik, that's what you want from me. You were right, you are magnificent," Charles replied calmly, turning last night's words back onto his friend. "You have not been frightened for a very long time. But I fear we all will be soon, and we'll still need you."

"This kind of inspiring talk might work on the children Charles, but I don't appreciate this kind of lesson. You could have died. It's not worth it," Erik said. He felt himself shaking, and did not know what caused his change in emotions. How could he go from wanting to kill Charles, to hold him safe from the world?

"You're worth it to me," Charles replied, looking up at Erik, who was no so far over him he was sheltering him from the rain. "Tomorrow we'll try something different Erik. Something stronger."

"What can be stronger than fear?" Erik asked, looking down on him with concerned eyes.

"Love, Erik. We'll try love."

Erik held Charles' gaze for a long time. He didn't know what this meant. He wasn't sure he loved Charles. He wanted to be near him, wanted to touch him, wanted his good opinion, wanted him safe, was that love? He pushed the questions away. What did it matter. Charles was here with him now. Erik leant down closer and kissed his hairline, before moving down to capture his lips.

Charles tasted metallic; his blood was still staining his mouth. The strange perversion to finding metal in Charles' mouth did not halt Erik in his assault. The kiss, which had begun as tender, grew until the protectiveness lessened and the predatory nature of Erik returned.

Charles remained under him submissively, letting Erik's hands touch him where he will. Allowing the moment for what it was, and nothing more. Nothing promised, nothing won. He could not let himself believe in anything more, not when one thought would not leave him in peace. Why had Erik waited until the last second to stop his fall?

Perhaps they would never be on the same level. One of them would always fall, leaving the other with the power to save them, or walk away. Charles wondered, what action he would inspire in Erik, next time he fell?


	3. A Darker Heart

**Author's Note:** Thank you so so much for your encouragement everyone. I would never have developed this fic as far as it has come without you! I seem to be getting darker and darker as we go along.

**A Darker Heart**

Charles felt himself fall, only this time he knew no one was going to catch him. Everything around him was black, and although his hands scrabbled out at his sides, desperately searching for something to hold on to, there was nothing. He was alone and he was falling. Charles felt his panic rising, he was going to die, the acuity in which he felt this to be true almost made his heart stop. But before he could scream, he woke with a jolt. The sensation had caused his heart to beat wildly, and for a moment he didn't know where he was. His powers searched around him instinctively, and he realised that he had been subconsciously projecting his sudden shock into everyone else in the house.

The majority of them had woken only briefly, and had now fallen back asleep. But two other minds remained in an alert state alongside of his own. Hank had been so alarmed, that he'd dropped a vial of something on the floor. It was hissing, and Hank's mind was whizzing past Charles, too fast for him to make any sense of what Hank was thinking.

"Sorry Hank, bad dream, didn't mean to scare you_,"_ Charles projected towards the young man in the science lab.

"Um… no problem," Hank replied into the empty lab. Charles could tell Hank was standing very still, concentrating very hard on these words, as if he was trying to return the telepathy. "It's pretty late. I'll just clear this up before I turn in."

With Hank back in a calm state, Charles turned his mind in another direction. Erik was awake, and Charles couldn't tell whether he had been awake all the time, or had been awoke in the same state of shock as the rest of them. But the images in Erik's mind were now fully formed, and far away removed from the haziness of a dream.

Erik was a young boy, and his mother was looking down upon him, with a look of love and pride in her tired and haunted eyes. Around them both was an atmosphere of fear, but his mother had done her best to shield her son from the dread that would usually show itself upon her face. Before them both was a birthday cake, looking like something from a dream, to a young boy who could only ever remember feeling hungry. He knew his mother and father had gone without in order to give him this gift.

It was the memory that Charles had found, buried deep in all the pain and confusion that was Erik's mind. The core of his power, wrapped around this little piece of true love, hidden and so safe that even Erik could not pull it free. But now here it was, and would be forever waiting for Erik, whenever he chose to see it. This memory had had the power to move the gigantic satellite dish, what more was it capable of?

But it was with a skipped beat of his heart that Charles realised that Erik was also thinking about him. Vying for attention Erik's mind was the image of Charles, his eyes filled with tears, looking frail and his fingertip shaking at his temple. The shared surprise of the moment displayed on both their faces. Only this time, Charles could see in his own expression.

It was strange to see himself through Erik's mind. But stranger still to hear Erik's view of his appearance, to feel the way Erik's body reacted to looking at him. To Erik, Charles' physical presence was slight and almost frail, a deceiving container for his true self. To Erik, Charles eclipsed his own physical being with the weight of his mental presence. Charles was not standing before Erik, he was everywhere around him, in his mind, in his soul, in his veins. Charles was existed in the mind, and Erik knew that no matter how often he tried to touch Charles, he was never as close as when Charles chose to touch him.

Ephemeral, Erik thought. Charles' love for him will not always be like this. It will change. It will never be gone, but it will never again be the same. The look in Charles' eyes told Erik everything he needed to know about the weakness in his friend. Charles would always fall because of him.

Charles watched Erik's projection of himself, close his eyes and break the connection between them. He felt Erik's emptiness at the loss of his steadying presence, and felt the torment of Erik's emotions rush back through his friend.

Charles was not sure he was worthy of a place so near to Erik's heart, that he shared the same place as the love Erik held for his mother. The comparison was as revealing as it was frightening. But Erik's thoughts were changing again, and this time Erik revealed that the subject of Charles' dream had not gone unnoticed.

_Charles is dreaming of falling. He thinks I wont catch him a second time. _

"It was just a dream Erik," Charles spoke softly into Erik's mind. "Only a dream my friend."

"Where are you?" Erik asked, instantly alert. His whole being responding to Charles' voice.

"In my room."

"Well, just stay there."

There was a knock at the door. It was only from courtesy and the door opened immediately afterwards. For a moment Erik hesitated before crossing the threshold into Charles' room. The grandeur of the room made him falter. He had never really taken much notice of the money Charles clearly had been privileged to during his life, even though it was all around them. His friend had expensive taste, but was not pretentious. He had learnt how to wear his wealth with Oxford richboy class.

But still, everything Erik looked at here made him think of Charles, even if the man himself had not been propped up against soft pillows, looking at him with the sharp direct gaze he looked at everyone with.

"I thought I might be able to keep those nightmares away for you," Erik said, leaning on the doorframe. He didn't wait for a response from Charles before he shut the door. "Or maybe this can."

In Erik's hand was the decanter of scotch that usually stayed in Charles' office. Charles supposed they were going to be drinking from the crystal bottle, since Erik hadn't picked up any glasses.

"Well, I'll try anything once," Charles said, shuffling his position backwards so he was more upright. He tried not to let his heart race when Erik climbed on the bed also. He lay back against the pillows and held out the scotch to Charles.

"Tell me something, one of your inspiring speeches maybe. I enjoy those the best," Erik said, folding his arms behind his head, the shirt of his dark blue pyjamas riding up to show an inch of skin on his stomach.

Charles looked around the room. His bedroom was foreign to him. He'd spent most of his life in other beds, at boarding school, at university, or with anyone who taken an interest in him… he had hardy ever been home. Raven had probably spent more time in this rambling house than he had. She certainly had more affection for the place than he showed.

"I don't feel very inspiring tonight."

"Then tell me what the children are doing right now. Tell me what Raven is doing." The way in which Erik enquired after Raven made Charles turn his attention back on his friend.

"What is your interest in my sister?" Charles asked. It was a topic that had not come up between them before, but could hardly be ignored. Erik had singled her out, and his purpose had never been clear. His intentions however had never deviated from appropriate, even if Raven had tried to encourage him.

"I like Raven. But she hasn't found her true potential yet. You've held her back. She thinks she has to hide from the world. Up until now, she's always been hiding behind you," Erik answered. He was wondering whether he was going to be told to back off. It would be a test of Charles' jealously, to see Erik's attention capture another. But instead he just watched Charles drink out of the crystal bottle, and was not rewarded with any reaction.

But whilst Charles might have seemed unaffected by Erik's admission, his mind was busy. Erik saw people for their worth. Not the weight of their soul, or the worth that was often spoke of to make people feel better about themselves. He didn't give empty compliments. When Erik told Raven that she was beautiful, he was not trying to comfort her from her deepest fears. She was beautiful to him because she saw her gift as beautiful, and not something that she should ever had been ashamed of.

Erik was right, and it shamed Charles. Raven had nothing to be ashamed of, and Charles realised now that had he not been so self involved in his youth, it might have been him that helped her come to this conclusion. But ashamed she was, because Charles had never looked at her closely enough. Never looked at her with anything but a brotherly love. It was Erik that had made her realise her worth, and her own worth as a woman.

The kind of worth that was measured in uniqueness and usefulness to the world, measured in other people's desire. At least, the worth to the world as Erik understood it.

"You've always been measured by how useful you have been to others," Charles said, not knowing what kind of inspiring speech Erik was wanting to hear from him. He did not try to hide the fact that he had moments ago been busy considering all of what Erik had said, and all that he had not said also. "I do not blame you for your view of the world. After all, my hardships are petty compared to the despair that has been a part of your life."

He felt Erik's eyes on him, ever expectant, as if Charles might just tell him the secrets to the universe and give everything a purpose. But with every passing moment life was just becoming even more complicated, when it had never been before. The complication came from Charles, who was like a colour on a black and white palette.

No door had ever been closed to Charles, everything had always been in his reach. While Erik had had to unlock every one he came up against. But whereas Raven had saved Charles from an emotionally starved childhood, Erik had been drowning in it. Hate and love, Erik had been filled with emotions so potent they'd fuelled his life.

"You've always had a purpose in your life Erik, whether it is one you chose or was forced upon you," Charles continued. "Whereas the world around me has only ever existed to amuse me. It was always full of infinitive possibilities, but I only ever saw half of it. Unlike you Erik, I've never looked too closely at the dark."

Erik felt his breath hitch in his chest. He didn't know how Charles managed to keep him hanging on his words, as if they were the air he breathed. Charles always seemed to find the most painful subjects, the kinds that other people just brushed away and ignored, and laid them bare. But Charles was wrong about something, he might never have looked into the dark directly, but it was a part of him. He found it through the people he let close to him. He was a martyr to taking on other people's darkness.

"And what is in the dark Charles?" Erik asked, he found himself not really wanting an answer, but they were both too far into this to back out now.

"Revenge," Charles said. "Murder, perhaps."

"You can't keep me from killing Shaw," Erik said, the spell Charles had held over him snapping with reality.

"I don't think I could stop you from doing anything," Charles replied with a half smile. "I'm just trying to tell you that it is not a road I want. Although I understand why you do."

They sat in silence for a long time, the scotch lying forgotten in Charles' hand between them. The air once again changed, as both realised right now, there was nothing more to be said. Charles could feel the electricity back again, the push and pull between them. Erik was the first to move, the electricity never seeming to freeze him like it did Charles. He took the decanter with a gentle touch, and leant over Charles to place it on the bedside table. He could feel Charles breathing on his neck, and the sensation travelled through him. Erik turned to look at him, staying as close as he could manage.

"The world does not deserve you Charles Xavier," Eric said before he bent down to kiss his friend's neck, feeling Charles' breathing change under his touch. "Mutants will be divided from the world you love. I hope that you will not be disappointed, when you finally realise that you are far more superior."

Charles tried to undo Erik's shirt, but his fingers were trembling. He could barely register Erik's words, but still he couldn't let the argument lie, not even when Erik's kiss was taking him over.

"Mutant and Human are the same thing," he whispered. "Mutant is just Human changed, but still Human at heart."

But he knew Erik was no longer listening.


	4. Just Standing Still

**A/N: **Maybe one day I'll write a happy story about these two, but for now lets continue on the road of darkness. Thank you very very much for all the reviews, encouragement, alerts and faves everyone! Again the inspiration to continue comes from you all.

**Just standing Still**

Charles woke to the sound of an engine, humming a worn-out tune under his window. As he became more aware of himself, he realised that only a sheet, wrapped around him as if he'd been restless all night, covered him. Immediately he knew that he was here alone, and that his nighttime companion had gone. But still, he hoped against what he already knew, that when he opened his eyes, Erik might be looking back at him.

Rolling over to face the window, he felt the light of the morning hit his face. He screwed his eyes tighter against the brightness, and then slowly opened his eyes. He was alone. It wasn't a surprise. The strange static current that seemed to radiate around them when Erik was near had been absent from the moment he woke, and all other traces of Erik had gone. Charles stared at the curtains and in the direction of the irritating noise. From the cheerfulness of the light pouring in behind the curtains, it was probably much later in the day that he'd first thought.

As he sat up, he realised the dull pain behind his eyes was mostly likely a result of the impromptu drinking he and Erik had indulged in last night, and the general aching a reminder of much more. He considered casting his mind out to see what was happening outside, but decided it would be just as easy to get up and look. It would give him a reason to move, when all he really wanted to do was close his eyes again.

With his bathrobe firmly tied around him, Charles pulled back the curtains to find the source of the noise. Below him Erik was standing with Sean, silently observing as Alex revved the engine of an old motorcycle. The blackness of the smoke coming from the exhaust clearly showing that it had seen better days. Charles supposed that it had been long ago abandoned in the garage with all the other things that were either no longer loved, or loved too much to use.

Pushing open the window, Charles leaned out to call their attention, but before he could speak, Erik looked up and caught his eye. The two others followed Erik's sudden change of attention, and Alex cut the engine immediately as if expecting to be in trouble. The sudden silence now felt odd and there was a moment where no one spoke.

Erik was looking up at him with an intensity that Charles couldn't place. It almost made him take a step backwards. His stomach started to jump with the quickness of this heartbeat, making him feel nervous. He suddenly wished he'd never interrupted them, and had continued to look on from above.

"Morning Professor X!" Alex called, breaking the tension, his arm making a lazy arc over his head in a halfhearted attempt at a wave. "Sorry, didn't know you were still sleeping. You don't mind do you?"

"If I mind that you're learning mechanics outside of my window, are you going to stop?" Charles replied, his gaze travelling towards all the tools, spare tires and broken pieces of metal which had been littered around them all on the lawn.

Alex looked at Sean, who seemed to unable to answer. Unlike Alex, he seemed embarrassed that they'd woken Charles up, made a load of noise and created a big mess. He looked down at his feet, and shuffled them awkwardly.

"Nope," Alex replied with a grin. "Probably not."

Charles tried not to look at Erik, who had never broken his gaze away from his face. He felt as if his skin was burning, and the longer Erik looked at him the warmer he felt. He was certain that he was blushing, or at least that his ears were turning pink. But why he was reacting in such a self-conscious way, he didn't know.

"Magneto said, we had to entertain ourselves today because you needed a day off," Sean supplied. His uncertain tone made Charles wonder whether he really gave the impression of being about to disapprove of everything the younger mutants did. Or maybe he just looked really irritable this morning.

"Magneto?" Charles repeated, mostly to himself. It was clear everyone was going to be persevering with their code names. "Alright, just wear a helmet if you're going to be riding that," Charles added before closing the window. Before it snapped shut he heard Alex muttering to himself, and knew his advice was going to be ignored.

The bike roared into life again, and when Charles looked back out of the window, Erik was gone.

Day off? Charles wondered as he commenced the usual routine of washing and dressing. He barely noticed that he was already out of the door; wearing clothes he didn't even recall choosing. He was far too preoccupied. A day off to do what? Yes he was tired, but no more so than anyone else. They had all been training, with or without him, and if they were still pushing themselves, then he couldn't be slacking off and taking a day out to lounge around. Besides he seriously doubted that Shaw was taking a day off today, and having a lie in whist his friends tinkered with motorbikes.

By the time he reached his study, Erik was already waiting outside for him. Leaning against the wall, appearing the epitome of relaxed. But his casual stance did not fool Charles for a moment. Walking near Erik right now, looked to be as safe as walking towards a lion. The casual grey sweats he was wearing, and the slightly raised eyebrow on his otherwise expressionless face did nothing to disguise how potentially volatile he could be. Charles had experienced enough of Erik's sudden attacks upon himself, and as a consequence, stopped just short of him and just out of reach.

Erik was the kind of man who relied upon his instincts. The need to survive had made him quick to react and had given him the confidence to trust himself. His face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, because Erik did not plan. He never considered what steps he would take before he took them, just took the ones that felt right to him and furthered his aim. Charles did not look in his mind anymore for his thoughts; they were misleading and often too fleeting for him to make sense of. There was nothing to be gained from skimming the surface of Erik's thoughts, because Erik was not a calculating man, he acted on his feelings, and when he spoke, he told the truth.

Erik trusted in himself, which often seemed at odds with his acceptance of Charles' astuteness in the source of his powers. Perhaps it made sense then, that Erik had never reached his potential until now, because he had never stopped to consider his next move. He was a constant flow of motion, never standing still for too long, always moving, and always reacting to the world. He had never stopped to consider his own self.

"No work for you today. You are becoming a boring old man," Erik said. His eyes glinted in way that told Charles to watch his step. "People are starting to talk."

Charles knew it would only take a second for Erik to move and he'd be pushed up against the wall himself. He'd be completely at Erik's mercy, like he always had been, and probably always would.

Maybe that was Erik's plan, to rile him up until they argued? Erik seemed to like him more when they fought. He would come closer, and keep on pushing until Charles showed him something he wanted to see, anger, jealousy, fear, all heated emotions that they had come to associate with their love of one another. Charles knew not to expect moments like last night, where the words between them were painful yet gentle. He and Erik were never meant to be sedate, they had been made to push one other. To demand more of each other, until they burned. They were equals in their abilities, but rivals in their power. The world around them was not big enough for all they were and all that they could be.

"You are burning up Charles," Erik said, his chosen words made Charles momentarily bewildered. He often wondered how much of his own thoughts he wore upon his face, which allowed Erik to read him so well.

Maybe he _was_ burning, running too fast, coughing on the smoke around him. When had he last stopped to look in side of _himself_? What was in him that he was neglecting, in order to help others? He'd never been forced to consider, nor wanted anything more than he'd had.

"It is not selfish, Charles, to want to be the best you can be," Erik said coming closer. He hands touching Charles' arms, keeping him steady. "But you are not even trying."

Charles looked up and Erik saw for the first time the strain that Charles had been carrying for days, clearly upon his face. How long had it been there? They had all been so busy in their own personal struggles that they had failed to notice how much they had taken from this man. Who would keep giving, until his shoulders collapsed, with the weight of the world they forced him to carry. Erik considered how he had demanded a share of Charles' soul for himself, pushing his own desire for more of everything upon his friend, until Charles had been prepared to give him everything.

Unashamedly Erik had taken. The dark dusting of shadow under Charles' eyes had been caused by him, and yet the blue of his eyes still shone brightly. Erik was not prepared to give him up. He would keep taking, whatever Charles would give him. Erik would never refuse, because he needed Charles. And what angered Erik, was that whilst he struggled to find himself and needed Charles' steady guidance. Charles would never need him in return. Charles did not even _have_ to try.

Everything Charles could be was mere moments away, and yet he refused to reach for it. He would give himself away to anyone who asked. Give himself over to the world's harsh judgement, and he expected nothing in return. He needed nothing. Right here and now, was all he needed.

Except there was something he had to do. Something he had to do for the world. For his friend. For Erik.

"You need to stop, so that you can start again. Because I know that however strong you make me Charles, I will still need you. And I always will," Erik said, holding Charles' face between his hands.

Charles felt so frail to him. His life seemed precarious, anything could take him away. The thought that Charles could ever be unreachable frightened Erik. Charles was the constant calm in a world that was full of uncertainty and fear. All this time Erik had been surviving, striding through the world's chaos without trembling. But now suddenly, this man before him, who at first appeared so insignificant, held his life in his hands. Erik knew what it meant to be alive; to find the depths of himself and realise that he was not just filled with darkness. And at long last, he could control what had only ever before been fuelled by rage. All because Charles, who stood so intangible before him, had cared enough to believe in him.

Erik knew that he might never truly deserve the love that Charles would give him, nor the trust that he placed in him. By taking he would be saved, and in doing so, he would destroy his friend. He wished that some day he might endeavour to deserve the happiness he had found. But for today, he knew this to be the truth. That no matter which direction he might face, or how lost on his road he might get. Wherever Charles was, that was his home, and the day that Charles Xavier stopped believing in him, would be his last.


	5. Won't be broken, stolen or forgotten

**A/N**: Sorry for the long wait, this chapter just refused to be imagined. And then, bam! Here it is. Viva la angst! This is un-beta-ed, and although I've read through for errors, by brain isn't very good tonight, so if you spot any please point them out so I can correct. :)

**Won't be broken, stolen or forgotten**

Charles is the last of them all to get changed. He is so busy making sure that everyone has the correct suit, even down to the correct kind of socks for their boots, that before long he is the only one left in civilian dress. The rest of them hover about feeling self conscious in the tight fitting outfits, recently dubbed their 'X-men' suits, and try to get comfortable in their new second skins.

Erik gives Raven an encouraging smile as he walks past her. She is not hiding behind blonde hair today, but showing the world her true face. Even though Erik has encouraged this, he still finds her appearance striking. His eyes linger on her blue skin, not knowing whether his gaze is welcome or intrusive. Their relationship had been confusing from the start, neither knowing what they wanted from each other. But both coming to realise that something connects them both, that was neither shared nor accepted by the others.

Raven might have been fooling the others, but Erik can see that there is uncertainty and a hint of fear in her amber eyes. He knows right now that in the suits, which hide no secrets, that she is feeling the most uncomfortable of them all. She smiles back, and without words they convey all their uncertainty to each other.

Erik stands before her for a moment. But the silence between them continues. Her eyes slide past him, and his eyes follow her lead. They are both looking for Charles. The anchor that keeps them all in place, who seems so much a part of them all that they cannot imagine any of this without him. Charles is how they defend their actions.

Erik has not asked any of the younger mutants what their justification is for this fight. It is clear that they all aspire to believe what Charles believes. Whether any of them manage to, is uncertain, although it would be hard not to let optimism in just once, when Charles is its champion. Even now when all their hearts beat a little faster with nerves. But Charles' idea of how the world should be is a little too expecting, the standards far too high, Erik is sure that he will never make the grade.

The door in which Charles had disappeared through is just ahead of him, and Erik leaves Raven in search of the man who has hijacked his life. There has been no escaping Charles, up until this point he's had control over them all, whether they have been aware of this or not. But not even Charles can stop his 'students' from being afraid, or standing awkwardly with his brand over their hearts. On day they might deserve to hold what they are all only grasping at now. But at this moment they all feel like children, playing with grown-up toys and grown-up emotions.

Erik's gaze is fixed on the handle, the metal turning and opening at his command. He can feel the metal splintering the soft wood around it, as it twists unnaturally in its restraints. Beyond this flimsy door, he knows Charles will be waiting for him, already aware that he is coming to find him. Charles may already know what he is going to say. Maybe there is no point in speaking from this point onward? He'll have heard his doubts and fears already. He'll have also heard his conflicting feelings for Raven. But on this subject, Charles has always been silent.

Charles is already in his suit. Buckles strapped down tight, glinting under the light of a single light-bulb hanging overhead without a light-shade. The pull is still swinging slightly from where Charles tugged it into life. The utility room is filled with scraps of metal, abandoned screws, old paint cans, and rusty tools, all suddenly expectant with the presence of Erik in the room. Charles is looking down at the ground, where his boots stand before him. Next to them, Charles has folded all his clothes with immaculate care.

The sight seems odd to Erik, although he can't quite explain why. Perhaps it is odd that Charles should continue to be so tidy just before they all fly into the unknown? Why fold your clothes when you're not sure you will return to them? It unnerved Erik, and made him think of the people who neatly folded their clothes on the beach, before walking into the sea to drown themselves.

"You think the world will change today," Charles says, the morbidity of Erik's thoughts unable to be ignored.

Charles turns his head at last to look at Erik, and Erik sees that Charles' face is not full of its usual life. Behind his eyes is a dullness that Erik has never seen before. Usually his friend simply reminds him of youthful optimism, of which Charles seems stubbornly defiant in believing. Erik doesn't want to see this in Charles' eyes; he's not allowed to be as scared as the rest of them are. It's almost as if Charles is betraying him. Has everything up until this point been a lie?

With a pang of regret, Erik realises that he sees himself reflected in Charles' eyes. That world-weary gaze of broken tiredness should never have touched this extraordinary man; it has spread from himself like a fire of doubt. The world was made for people like Charles, who enjoyed being a part of it, and saw the potential in everyone and everything. Charles was supposed to believe they could win today, and that they would all be accepted by mankind as equal. Mutants to be understood as the evidence of human evolution.

Charles was _supposed_ to be believe this because however slim the chances, it _was_ possible. But the odds were _not_ with them, history of human beings was very clear on one thing. Difference was bad, and change frightening. The stronger conquered, and the weak were suppressed. Why would mankind suddenly throw its hard learned lessons away? Humans would fight tooth and nail to be the top race, no matter what Charles believed. They would not welcome a stronger more powerful race of people, who had the power to take everything from them.

But even if Erik disagreed, he also believed that if Charles gave up on his stupid dream, then: what purpose did the world have for existing?

"We view change very differently Charles," Erik replied. He watched as Charles placed a foot in his boot, his hand reaching out for purchase against Erik's chest. Erik noticed that he put the left one on first, something insignificant, but seemed worth noting, as if he might never have another chance to notice again.

"I suppose you mean, that you fear change and I do not?" Charles asked, looking up at him, whist he crouched to fasten his boots. He gathered his clothes to his chest before he stood. "You would be wrong Erik."

Erik felt his heart skip its beat. He didn't understand how Charles could make him feel at his most alive with just words. The more painful the better, the closer to his heart the more he felt the world existing around him. But the path that might have allowed him to walk next to Charles had been scrubbed out many years ago, by a man that he was now running towards with the sole intention of causing his death. Sebastian Shaw had destroyed this chance of happiness for him. He had known since he had failed to save his mother, that he had never really had a chance of being happy in this world. He should have died that day too, and he was now living on borrowed time. This life did not belong to him, it belonged to the promise he had made his parents, that the ones that had wronged them would pay.

Charles watched him in silence whilst he thought. The fact that he made no comment on what Erik is thinking riles Erik's temper. Can he not be bothered to listen in today, or has he finally giving up on Erik's potential for saving? Has Charles at long last cast him away as a damned soul?

"Why are you not saying anything?" Erik demands.

Charles continues to look at him with an expression Erik cannot read. He wishes Charles would tell him something that makes him break his heart, or makes him question what he always thought to be true, the kind of thing Charles always does when they are alone like this. But, Charles does nothing. Finally Erik cannot bare this new game anymore, and his unexplained frustration manifests itself through his power, pulling Charles towards him by his metal buckles.

The clothes Charles was holding falls to the ground, no longer neatly folded, but crumpled at his feet. Neither of them move as they stare at each other in silence. The action causes them both to think back to the last time Erik held Charles in such a way. The day in which Charles gave Erik complete control over his life, total power over whether he lived or died.

Erik sees Charles' focus change slightly in his eyes, his pupils dilate by a minute fraction, but enough for Erik to notice, and then memory comes. The moment, in which Erik had caught Charles fall from the satellite dish, the delay he'd taken in using his powers, and the sudden and hard landing Charles had felt, falling through the rain and smashing into the metal dish. Erik sees himself standing at the top of the dish, dark and powerful against the background of a storm. He sees himself as Charles saw him then, something unobtainable, something frightening, and suddenly he understands the world's desire to tame him. He would want to do the same.

It was the moment between them that had signalled the pattern of their friendship. Charles would put his trust in Erik, and he would never be sure of it being rewarded. But such was trust, when it was confused with love; there was often no reason behind it. They were feelings after all, and feelings often made no sense.

"What are you afraid of Charles?" Erik asked. He held onto Charles' buckles, not letting him move away from him. Holding him slightly raised from the ground, the soles of his boots ghosting over the ground.

"All that I shouldn't be."

The reply was so loaded that Erik forgot that he was holding Charles, and the tension which had started as equal between them, soon took on it's familiar unbalanced power. Erik the stronger, holding Charles in place, whilst Charles decided whether or not to play.

"Tell me," Erik asked.

Charles shook his head.

"You already know Erik."

Erik's hands were suddenly gripping him tightly, holding his arms back. He looked at Charles with slight trepidation, as if giving into him now might change the world like he had been afraid of.

"I'm afraid that you'll stop loving me when you no longer need me," Charles confessed, as he tilted his face as far as he could towards Erik. His eyes closed, his breath soft and warm over Erik's lips.

Erik let go of his arms suddenly, and Charles was pulled forward to close the space between them. The kiss, which should have been gentle, began unexpectedly.

But today there was no comfort to be had in each other. It felt like desperation, and when the future was uncertain, it seemed like goodbye. Erik realised that he had wasted too much time not admitting how much he wanted Charles. Trying to justify his feelings, to try and define them. They had both been distracted by the chase of each other, when they both known that they could never hold the other.

"You have given me the only thing that they will never be able to take from me."

Gently Erik lowered Charles down until his feet were back on solid ground.

"I'll never let you go Erik," Charles said as Erik turned the door handle to leave. "We'll never escape each other."

Erik looked back with a furrowed brow.

"What makes you think I'd ever want to hide from you?"


	6. Fever

**A/N:** This fic seems to be turning out to be the Erik epic rollercoster of angst. Warning in this for some un-requited Raven/Erik (kinda) and some Raven-pretending-to-be-Charles.

**Fever**

Erik didn't kill Shaw. Charles did. It was something that Erik added to his list of life regrets. But it couldn't have been any other way. In that moment, they had been one and the same. Two people merged into one. It was one of the strangest moments of Erik's life, when he realised that he no longer had to fight for his revenge, but that it was being offered up to him. Charles who had been the steady voice of reason, the light of hope in this dark and violent world, was now no longer standing in front of him. He was no longer in his way, nor was he left far behind. They were together, in that briefest of moments, he felt what he never realised he had wanted before. Charles loved him more than he loved the world.

Erik knew, that right there and then, Charles would have let everything burn. All his ideals and self imposed morals. The strict code of honour he seemed to have soldered into his very bones, was washed away. Shaw had to die, so that Erik could live. Charles was not sacrificing a part of his soul for the greater good, not taking his life a shade darker, and smearing his hands in blood for the nameless and faceless crowd. He was being selfish, destroying something so that he could keep hold of what he loved, even if the destroying went against everything that made him: him.

The look in Shaw's eyes was pure terror, as Erik moved the coin towards him. Slow and steady with deliberate delay. He wanted Shaw to feel every bit of this pain. Wanted to savour the look in his eyes, the frightened stare, of which had been his own reflection as a boy. Erik wanted to hear the metal crack through his bone, tear through the electrical connections in his brain. Destroy every part of him, his nerves, his senses, his control, and his power. Only the victory was bittersweet. Shaw was frozen, he felt nothing.

Erik realised too late, when the coin cut through the other side of Shaw's skull, that his death had not been felt the way Erik had witnessed it. The pain that should had been Shaw's had been the bargain Charles had made to hold him in place. Charles had felt it all.

Were you watching me? Erik asked. Knowing that he would never receive an answer. Shaw's helmet had made the world a quieter place. But his heart was hammering too fast to spare a beat to realise what was missing. The loss of hearing Charles had not registered in his racing brain, too occupied with the fight. Too full of adrenaline and amazement at himself and what his powers had allowed him to achieve.

It was only after he had turned the missiles around, and the bullets had flown. After Charles had fallen into the sand, and the last remaining shard of his heart had broken. That the sickening feeling of having caused Charles pain, sat heavy within him. Somewhere in his soul, somewhere deep and dark he could hear Charles screaming. He tried to tell himself that he had no idea, that he had not bullied Charles into committing murder with him, but that was a lie. He'd entrapped Charles so far into his dreams and his personal mission, that Charles had had no choice. Erik knew, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to himself, that he had always been the one taking. He'd used them all, and now, there was no way back.

Charles was wrong; some choices were made for you. There was no running away from them. Choosing another path might have meant loosing even more. He felt Charles' eyes on him as he emerged from the submarine, the limp and lifeless body of Shaw floating carelessly before him. He could see the betrayal in Charles' eyes, the hurt and the confusion. But the part of Erik that might have yielded had gone. The weight that he had felt on his shoulders for so long had been lifted, and suddenly the world was full of possibility again. He finally saw the world like Charles had seen it, there was so much potential, and it was all waiting for him. For them.

"Charles!"

Erik awoke with a start. He had been dreaming. It was the same dream that had been haunting him for weeks, showing him his deepest fears and the second most painful moment of his life. He could still see Charles' face in front of him, and almost imagined that if he closed his eyes, he could see him even clearer. But it was not the Charles he wanted to remember. This Charles was broken and bloodied on the beautiful gold sand, his eyes filled with tears, his skin had a sheen of sweat upon it, and he was shivering with shock. Erik knew it was his own guilt that was making him relive this moment over and over.

But although he punished himself every night, he would not have given the nightmares away. It was the only chance he had of being close to Charles now.

Erik isn't even sure he is alive anymore. For weeks he has been struggling to breathe. His mind feels foggy without Charles' hand upon him, and he could barely remember where he is. Everything around him is unfamiliar and strange, the lights are too bright and the bed in which he lies in uncomfortable. A strange memory comes to him, of Raven trying to cool his burning skin with damp towels, wiping his forehead and pleading with him to take off his helmet. But this could all be a dream, or a hallucination, he cannot even recognise reality anymore.

But still he could see her face. Looking down on him with pity in her blue eyes, her blonde hair scraped back from her face. He didn't know why she was hiding again; perhaps they were all hiding right now?

Erik stared upwards, watching the ceiling fan spin around above him, feeling beads of sweat on his brow. The room was humid and the heat uncomfortable. Sunlight was beating against the drawn curtains, and the windows were firmly closed. After struggling to sit up, Erik stumbled towards the bathroom. He swayed over the toilet for a moment, unsure how he'd even managed to arrive here, and then twisted the cold-water tap on in the sink.

He began to recognise that he was in a motel room. But trying to make sense of what was happening used the last of his strength, and Erik stared into the mirror instead. He could barely make out what he saw. Blood shot eyes, and a pale sweaty face. He splashed some of the cold water over him, and tried to rub some colour into his skin with a towel. It was only after this that he realised that his helmet was missing.

Panicking, Erik threw the towel down and made his way back into the bedroom. He couldn't remember feeling this ill before, on the edge of consciousness, threatening to fall back into the black. For how many days had he been here? Where were the others, and why was he unprotected? But during this short time in which he worried, he expected to hear _his_ voice. But Charles was silent. There was no soothing voice in Erik's head. He was alone. His mind was empty, save for the nightmares that plagued him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to push his thoughts outwards. He had been convinced that the moment he removed the helmet, Charles would find him. He'd be angry with him, have a thousand words for him. But at least he would be there, waiting for the moment when Erik wasn't hiding from him. But this silence seemed unnatural. Where was he? Why hadn't he found him yet? Erik tried even harder to call for Charles with his mind, but again there was nothing. No familiar touch. Charles was not looking for him after all.

Erik sank down on the edge of the bed, his eyes unfocused. His skin was burning. But it was something inside of him that was boiling, rising through him. Suddenly he doubled over, his face in his hands, and the sound that came from him was unexpected and shook him. It was the sound of loss. It seemed to stretch into forever, and he couldn't ever imagine it leaving him. The need he felt for Charles was something he couldn't describe, but it left him feeling hollow.

Everything around him seemed dark, and he had the feeling that no matter how brightly the sun might be pounding on the window, it would never again touch him. He was tainted, he'd abandoned all that made him a part of something good, and strode out on his own. He was adrift now, and never before had he doubted himself so much. Before his road had seemed so assured, now he was wandering in the dark. He had never realised he could need someone as much as he did now. No one would ever look at him with the same faith that Charles did, nor expect so much. For his faith, Erik had rewarded Charles with abandonment, when Charles had needed him most.

But it was not Charles who had caused this wretchedness, but Erik. All that he felt now was the price he must pay for his choices. He wanted to blame Charles for everything, but his heart could not direct an unkind thought towards the man that had believed in him. Who had never turned him away, or shied away from his true self. Charles had been the only man who had ever stood as his equal, the only man who had never been afraid of him.

Raven awoke with the sound of Erik shouting. The walls of the motel were so paper thin, that she had spent most of her nights listening to him talking to himself in his fevered state. The rest of their new gang had been assigned missions already, and thankfully had not been around to see their new leader sink into madness. It pained Raven to have to listen to Erik's cries, because he only ever called out one name, and it wasn't hers.

No matter how much she cared for him, his fevered eyes never saw her. He never looked at her, or even acknowledged that she was there. He just kept dreaming, the same dream, of Charles. She heard him calling him now, he sounded frightened. The shout disturbed her; it chilled her down into her bones, because she felt the same guilt, the same fear. They'd turned their back on Charles, but still they both wanted to reach their hands out to him, and hold him close. But the time for comfort was over. They were all at war.

Climbing out of bed, Raven made the well trodden journey to Erik's room. Turning the key in the lock. The sun was up, but time meant nothing anymore. They were living by Erik's new order, and that order seemed to be madness. The room was boiling, and Raven pushed open a window before she went any further.

Erik was lying on the bed. His clothes sticking to him in the heat, the swish of the fan overhead providing no relief. His head lifted from the pillow slightly as he looked at her, then he went back to staring at the ceiling.

"How long can this continue Erik?" Raven asked. "You are making yourself ill."

"Where is my helmet?" he demanded.

Raven frowned. Before she answered she set to work trying to cool him down. Stepping into the bathroom she grabbed a flannel and held it in the cold water. She had no idea what was wrong with him, she hoped it was as simple waiting out the sickness, until his body fought it off. But she feared it might be something deeper. She had no idea what had happened between him and her brother prior to the mission, but was beginning to put the pieces together. She just hoped now that Erik's damaged heart wasn't about to break for good.

He had to get stronger, for all of them.

"I took it off you when you couldn't remember your own name anymore," Raven replied. "I have it safe."

"You shouldn't have," Erik snapped.

Raven felt a shift of something in the room. Erik's powers, which had lay dormant for days, had just flared into life. For a second it frightened her, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"Why? Because you thought Charles would find you?" she asked, knowing that it was an unfair question. But she was beginning to get sick of this self-pitying act.

"I thought that, yes," Erik replied. "I was wrong. He's not there Raven, he's not there."

This revelation surprised her. She was sure that Erik would have heard from Charles, it had been days now since he had been without his shield. She wondered whether Erik had been too ill to hear him, but then again, Charles had not come to find her either. She suddenly thought back again, to all the times she had heard Erik yelling Charles' name. It had hurt at first, now the pain changed. She realised at last, that Erik was not simply full of fever, but that he was truly suffering. He'd loved Charles. It was so obvious now. And it was being away from Charles that was killing him.

"He's not there."

She couldn't stand it.

"I'm always there," came the reply.

Erik opened his eyes. In front of him, Charles stood, his head slightly tilted to the side as he looked at Erik. His eyes were as bright as Erik remembered, and held no accusation.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked. His mind was struggling now to put the events together. How could Charles be standing before him? He knew deep down that something wasn't right, but he didn't want to let go of this vision.

Perhaps he was dying? Maybe he had died already? Could he be in heaven now? Or is he now so delirious that he was hallucinating the entire thing? Charles was moving toward him now, there was something in his hands. Erik closed his eyes as he felt Charles sit down beside him, and the cold flannel touched his face.

"You're burning up Erik," he said. His voice just as level and calm as Erik remembered it. "You need to fight this."

"I'm so sorry Charles," Erik muttered. "I was wrong. I need you. I can't do this without you."

"Yes you can," Charles replied. "You can do anything Erik. I still believe in you."

Raven felt her own heart hammering in her chest. The way that Erik was looking at her now left her in no doubt. Her earlier suspicions had been right. Had Charles known? Had Erik ever told him? How could Charles let something like this slip away? Raven turned her face away. She could hardly stand for Erik to be looking at her like this. She could feel everything he felt, she could see it all in his eyes, in his face, in the way he reached his hand up to touch her face.

He was so gentle, and it surprised her. She wished with all her heart that she could lean down and kiss him. But it was not her that he was seeing. That touch was not meant for her. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she couldn't abide to see that hurt and guilt in his eyes any longer.

Slowly she turned her face to him. His eyes were searching hers. He made her want to cry.

"I love you Charles. I'm so sorry for all that I did to you. I'm sorry that I never told you that."

Raven blinked away a tear. How could Charles just abandon him now? Why wasn't he here, speaking to them? There was no excuse. No stupid helmet blocking out the world. Yet Erik was all alone, and no matter how close she tried to get, it would never be enough. She had never compared, and she never would, not to Charles. And in that moment, Raven realised that she was free. No matter how much it hurt. Free of her complicated love for Charles, free of her confused feelings for Erik. She could love them both, without this burning fever that Erik felt. It wasn't for her; her heart must turn in another direction to be happy.

She stroked back Erik's hair with the cold cloth to soothe him.

"I already know Erik," she replied, feeling her voice choke on her tears. "But I can't come to you now. I am waiting for you to find me… When you are ready."

Erik closed his eyes with a heavy breath. Raven was sure he'd fallen asleep again. As she stroked his hair once more, her arm began to return to blue. His face was calm, no nightmare behind his eyes this time. She had lied to him, tricked his fevered brain. But she would do it again if it meant saving him. She'd already lost one brother, she couldn't lose this too.

None of this should have happened. None. But soon they would all stand and face one another again. Raven didn't know how Charles and Erik would bear it.


	7. No More Hiding

**No More Hiding**

Erik's hand reached out before him, and pressed against the dark wood of the door. Raven was standing close to him, both eager and nervous. Her hands had been twisting together ever since they had arrived, and their altercation with the boys in the house had done nothing to calm her. In the end Erik and Raven had been pointed in the right direction, when it was made clear they hadn't come for a fight. Still, they had arrived at a room that had never been in use during their time of training, and it felt as if they were intruding.

It was an office, apparently having been once used for someone's business correspondence. The heavy desk before them was covered with stationary, and pens, which had an old and well used feel about them. This had been Xavier senior's study, and it seemed strange that Charles should abandon his own more relaxed room, with its bookcases, comfortable chairs and friendly atmosphere.

Erik stepped into the room, trying to keep his nerves at bay. It was warm, but not stifling. In front of the large windows, Charles was sitting on a sofa facing out at the large floor to ceiling windows, looking out towards the garden. Pillows surrounded him, and his legs were outstretched before him. His hand was lying limply at his side, and a book had fallen on to the floor. Erik noticed that his clothes were impeccably clean and sharp against the soft patterned furnishings, as if he had sat down and not moved since.

Charles did not react as they approached him. His face was turned away from them, and Erik quickly realised that Charles was sleeping. The steady rise and fall of his chest only hitched for a moment when Raven let out a gasp. For a moment, Erik had forgotten that she was there.

"Erik, he is so ill. No one told me…" she whispered, but the words held desperation. "Just look at his face!"

Erik hadn't noticed anything amiss. Charles had looked so peaceful whilst sleeping. But Raven was right. His breathing was light and shallow, not the relaxed breathing of sleep. Charles looked so frail and small. A shadow of what Erik's memory recalled at the thought of him. But then, Charles' had always outmatched his physical attractions with something else entirely. But the brightness that usually drew Erik in had now disappeared. Erik felt Raven's hand touch his, her blue skin was always cool and she squeezed his fingers. Erik didn't know whether she was seeking to give or take comfort.

"Charles?" Erik asked into the silence. He watched Charles slowly open his eyes. Underneath them were two dark discoloured patches of skin. Evidence of his ailing health, and of fitful nights with no sleep. Erik suddenly felt sorry for having woken the man up, when it was clear that he needed the rest.

In Charles' gaze there was something that made Erik walk closer. A sort of unfocused glaze to his blue eyes. Erik knelt down before Charles so that he might look into his face, but Charles continued to look past him, as if he was seeing ghosts, and not what was really before him.

"Why are you crying?" Charles asked at length. There were no hellos. In a way, it felt as if they never been apart.

Erik felt some of his tension leave him. Charles was still there, in the tired and hollow looking shell. His voice was still the same, making the world move. Erik wished he could take the feeling that Charles' voice gave him, and keep it forever. But it was a gift that Charles gave for moments only, and when he was silent, it disappeared. Erik opened his mouth to speak, but then he realised he wasn't the one being addressed.

"You're fading Charles," Raven said. Her voice cut through the peace in the room, and set everything on edge. "I can see it in your face."

Erik felt himself begin to panic. It was the same petrified feeling he had had on the beach, when Charles had been hurt. The world had filled with black. Small sounds became relentless noise, and he ceased to be able to breathe. He had been unable to make good choices in that moment; his departure had not been as it should have. There were many things about his actions he now regretted, it was clear that they would now stand between him and Charles like a wall. Unable to be moved, unable to be looked over.

A small smile appeared on Charles' face, a strange reaction to Raven's fears.

"That's a little dramatic Raven."

"Don't lie to me," she warned him.

Erik could feel her uneasiness behind him, it flooded into him too. Suddenly he wondered why he had stayed away from Charles for so long? What if he had come here too late?

"If I was dying Raven, I am not anymore. You don't need to worry," Charles replied. For a moment Erik found himself believing him, but Charles didn't have the energy to keep up the illusion today. As he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find some strength, it was obvious he was weak. Charles was lying; they had every reason to be worried about him.

"What happened?" Raven asked. At this Erik turned to look at her. He wished she could have taken that question back. They all knew what had happened. Why did they have to relive the past right now? What good could possibly come of it?

Charles leant his head back against the pillows. His eyes were still closed, but although it clearly taxed him to speak, he still answered.

"I got shot Raven, I was hardly going to be feeling fantastic. Being indoors for so long has made me ill."

When Charles opened his eyes, he saw Raven's stricken face, with tears running down her cheeks. He realised that he couldn't be honest with her today. She was not one of his declared opponents right now, but his little sister, who was worried and scared. Of course this had come as a shock to Raven. He was always the one looking after her. The idea that he might fail at surviving had never even occurred to her.

"Don't cry Raven, it's all over now."

Erik remained listing to this exchange, still on his knees. He suddenly felt like a fool. Charles had not even acknowledged him to be in the room. Not even a glance had been spared in his direction. If Erik was honest with himself, he felt hurt. He had been expecting harsh words from Charles, and had already prepared what he would say to counter every hurtful thing Charles could say. But this silence between them felt unnatural. Raven had seen so much, she was full of emotion, but to Erik, Charles was almost a block of ice. Once again Erik was reminded of his own selfish nature. He'd left Charles, but he still wanted Charles to welcome him.

"Charles," Erik tried again.

This time Charles couldn't ignore him. Erik found himself pinned to the spot by Charles' eyes. Now that the haze of sleep had disappeared, they had sharpened with what looked like pain.

"I don't blame you for leaving. I told you to go after all. I only wish I had fought harder to keep you."

When Charles spoke, Erik felt the words were meant for Raven, but Charles' eyes were fixed directly upon his. Erik could still hear Raven crying behind him, but the rest of the world disappeared. After what seemed like forever, Charles released him from his gaze, by looking upwards and at his helmet. The exchange had left Erik feeling breathless, but the sight of his helmet seemed to have pushed Charles away.

"Please Charles, just…" Raven said. "Why are you just lying there? Please just … move. Please… You're scaring me."

At first Erik thought that this wan an odd request. He stood slowly and moved back an unsteady step. He'd been so focused on Charles' face that he hadn't thought to look elsewhere. But once again he felt the chill of dread, Raven was right, something was wrong. Charles was far too still. They waited in silence for a moment, Erik holding his breath, sure that he had forgotten how to breathe. Then Charles held out a hand to Raven.

"I didn't know how to tell you."

Without any warning Raven's skin began to change. Erik could hear her breathing in short gasps, and her blue disappeared into blonde. Her human face crumpled with pain and she hurried forward, wrapping her arms around Charles. Again what was passing between Charles and Raven took a while to reach him. But again he had not been included in their reunion, and wondered whether his helmet was keeping more of Charles out than he had wanted.

"Tell her what Charles?" Erik demanded through gritted teeth.

Raven turned to look at him, and it was the first time Erik had ever seen such hatred on her face. He didn't know if it was directed at him or not, and he didn't care. All he wanted was an end to the riddles, and end to Charles ignoring him, and to be told the truth. Charles should shouting at him, not lying motionless and looking at him with eyes that burnt and a complexion a shade away from death.

"He can't move his legs Erik," Raven hissed. "Are you happy now?"

Erik felt his head spin. The shock of Raven's words and the viciousness in which she spoke sent Erik reeling. He thought he might lose consciousness, feeling his heart speed up until it was deafening and painful. It hammered against his chest; pumping too quickly, empty beats that held no blood. Although the blackness might be preferable to this harsh truth, Erik still fought against it. Raven had been right all along. Charles had been dying, and he had been dying alone. Erik had killed a part of Charles. The two conflicting visions of Charles could not exist together in Erik's mind. The young, free and strong, and the cold, broken and sickly Charles couldn't be the same man. Erik could not make sense of this revelation. His heart saw Charles as someone full of life. Not chained to the ground and broken.

Erik didn't know how he had made it to the window. He was desperate for air and there was a retching feeling in his throat. A sickness in his stomach that churned over and couldn't quell itself. This was why Charles would not look at him. This secret was what Erik had been seeing in his eyes. There was blame, guilt and embarrassment in Charles' eyes. These confused feelings were to blame for keeping them apart now. But how could Erik reproach Charles for being wary? When he didn't even know how to react to this. His feelings were numb.

Opening the French doors with shaking hands, Erik stepped out into the sunlight. The world took its time in coming back to him. The vision before him slowly righted itself and sound returned from the loud pounding of his heart in his ears. Behind him Raven was still crying, this time making no attempt to control it. Erik raised a hand to his cheek and realised that he had been crying too. He left the tear to stain him, having no desire to hide himself from Charles any further, and returned to the room.

Now that the windows were opened, the room felt light. A breeze blew past Erik, bringing with it a sweet smell of pollen. In contrast, the helmet on Erik's head began to feel heavy and uncomfortable. Erik suddenly felt very self-conscious wearing it in front of Charles. It had done so much damage already, slowly destroying the connection between them. It had prevented Charles from sharing this burden with him, and now it had all been revealed upon Erik's terms. Like everything that had ever passed between them, it had always been Erik pushing Charles where he might not like to go.

Erik had come here when he was ready and strong. Would Charles care that not so long ago he had been yelling his name into the empty darkness? Erik looked at Charles now. Raven had managed to climb onto the sofa with him, her tears soaking his shirt, but her sobs growing quieter. In her human disguise she looked like a little girl again, and Erik realised she hadn't changed back willingly. Like him, she had wanted and needed comfort from Charles.

Charles looked up and held Erik's gaze. The silence between them once again started to regain its old electricity. It had always been there, hiding beneath the secrets. Only this time, Charles looked as if he might break under the strength of it. But Erik knew Charles would never accept anything less than that Erik had always given him, unbridled aggressiveness. But now Erik had to wrestle with the guilt as well as his desires.

They sat together until Raven cried herself into silence. All the while Charles continued to hold Erik's gaze, and Erik didn't dare look away. Nothing more was said until Raven sat up and wiped at her eyes.

"I know you need to be alone with him," Raven said, carefully climbing off the sofa. It was unclear whom she was speaking to, but no one disagreed with her. "I'll go and see the others, if they'll have me."

Her lips lingered for a moment with a kiss to Charles' forehead, as if it might be the last they would ever share.

"She knows about us," Charles said once Raven had left.

"Read her mind did you?"

"I didn't have to," Charles replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "If you've come to ask my permission to be with her… you know what I am going to say."

Erik leant forward slightly in his chair. The tension between them had changed. Suddenly Charles didn't seem all that broken anymore. He was just as dangerous as he had ever been, and Erik was just as susceptible.

"No, I don't," Erik replied. "And it isn't like that. You know that?"

"Do I?" Charles asked.

"It has always been you Charles," Erik replied softly. "Only you."

"Even now?"

"We are different people today," Erik said. "You wouldn't have me now." Erik stopped speaking. He realised that these words held more meanings than he had intended.

"Yes, we are," Charles replied looking away.

As the silence closed in on them once more, Erik occupied himself with morbid thoughts. Had he been stealing Charles' soul by calling his name so much? Calling Charles towards him and away from his damaged body. But even if this mad thought was true, Erik couldn't have given Charles up. Charles was the measure against what everyone and everything was matched and found wanting.

"You are my first thought in the morning Charles. I seek your advice with every decision I make. I will protect Raven because she is yours. You love her, so I will keep her safe. It's nothing more. You did not want to be at my side Charles, but I took you with me regardless. You're in everything I do," Erik said.

Erik knew Charles was listening to his every word, even though he refused to turn his head and meet his eyes. Without hearing Erik's thoughts, the words sounded pointless and empty. Charles missed Erik so much that it hurt him to think of it. Erik's mind was always so intriguing. He had such control over himself, never distracted. But it seemed that was no longer the case. Charles was still trapped in his mind, but only Erik could feel the connection now.

"You don't believe me, do you," Erik asked.

Charles smiled slightly.

"You don't need to prove yourself to me anymore Erik. What does it matter what I think?" Charles asked, the fingers on his right hand twitching slightly. Erik watched the unconscious movement wishing he could reach out for that hand. But he didn't know if he would be welcomed anymore.

Slowly, Erik pulled his helmet off. It was the only thing he could think of doing. The ultimate show of trust. Charles could do anything to him now, and a small part of Erik wished he would. His hair stuck to his head and even his raked fingers through it couldn't disguise how his body reacted in Charles' presence. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his hair now stood at odd angles. Erik steeled himself for Charles' attack but instead of feeling the other man's mental touch upon him, there was just silence. Charles was looking at him with the same pained expression he had worn moments ago. Erik stared back at him expectantly, then felt his temper rise.

"What do you want from me Charles?" Erik shouted, getting to his feet. "Why do you always torment me?"

Erik bent over Charles, coming down close to his face. He wanted to shake something out of Charles, anything. He could hardly stand this silence anymore.

"What did you expect Erik, that you take off the helmet and I'd come running?" Charles asked. "You shut me out Erik. And you are still standing. You were right, you are my 'outward show of magnificence'. You are everything I could have been. But I do not regret where I am now."

_You are strong without me. You don't need me anymore. _

"I don't want to be strong."

_You always have been. For you, nothing has ever been pretend. But you cannot take me where you are going now Erik. You cannot draw an enemy line and try to stand on either side of it. We've made our choices, now you must make peace with it._

"Are you at peace Charles? Truly? Tell me you are suffering as much as I."

_We are not all guaranteed to be loved in this world Erik. I believe I have been one of life's lucky few, to feel such pain in losing you. Because now I know, that I have loved. Nothing has ever compared to that. This pain I feel now, reminds me that it was real._

"You were loved in return Charles," Erik answered, feeling a tear in his eyes. "And always will be."

The smile on Charles' face could have broken Erik's heart had it not already been torn in pieces. He felt Charles' hand brush the side of his face, and Erik allowed the tears to fall. One for every day they had been apart, one for all the secrets, the despairing thoughts and guilt. Charles had forgiven him, but there was no going back to the past. It was over; it was time for something new.

Erik leant in further, and kissed Charles. His lips her warm and responded gently. Erik could taste his own tears, and wished them away. They tainted the taste of Charles, who now seemed so foreign because of them. Gently, he wrapped his arm around Charles' back, and pulled him forward, holding him tightly.

_Erik, you don't need to listen for my advice in your head. _

"If you want to talk," Charles said pulling away for a moment. "Then just pick up the phone."

Erik laughed. He idea seemed ridiculous. But Charles was right. Erik need not torture himself anymore, he could hear Charles' voice whenever he liked. Again… on his terms. Always on Erik's terms.

But at the end of the day, there remained one thing sure in the uncertainly of the future. Charles would desperately continue to hold on to his colours. On the battlefield, if you were not wielding a sword then you were flying your banner. The X Men would keep looking higher. Their flags would battle against the wind. And Erik, would set them all on fire. If only to burn Charles' hands, and make him feel.

Erik placed his helmet back on his head, and walked out of the mansion and into the future. Charles had not tried to change his mind. He'd let him go. For now.

**The End**

**A/N: **Oh, holy moly. I never expected to write this much for this fic. Nor kill myself with angst. Thank you so so much to those who followed me from chapter one, and encourage me to keep going. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and who fave'd/alerted. I hope that you have enjoyed the ending.


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